May 18, 2009

Hi all, When we left you last week we were peacefully anchored in the Eastham Creek off the Pongo River. That was when we anchored on purpose, deploying Knute, the Rockna anchor. I woke early enough to enjoy that wonderful pre-dawn ½ hour listening to the birds, watching the changes in the colors of the sky and water and simply being grateful for moments that are so completely beautiful that they take your breath away. It wasn't long before fishing boats headed out of the stream—always the early risers. An hour later, we were ready to get underway. Knute, (the anchor) however, was not. It took some serious boat maneuvering to free him from the bottom, and to show his displeasure, when he came up onto the boat deck, he was upside down! We laughed and laughed at how an anchor could be so stubborn and willful. It took two tries to flip him over, but we won eventually, and off we went. Tuesday's ride took us to the swing bridge over the Alligator River. A hard left turn as you clear the bridge allows you to sneak into the Alligator River Marina, where we have stopped before. We tied up stern to on a tiny little pier. I had visions of swinging onto—and over--and off of—the tiny pier, so Fred rigged a handle for ease and safety in leaving the boat. Again on Wednesday we were up at first light, and we were off. Fred was mumbling about following the magenta line (remember that chart marking the route?) as we headed into the Albamarle Sound. And his concern was right on. Very soon we had less than a foot of water under the transducer that tells us the water depth. The boat growled and moaned as we transferred our brand new bottom paint to the shoaling mud beneath us, but we were able to swing in a very slow, very painful circle and get back into deeper water. Another boat hailed us to see if we needed help, and when we were off and running and talked with them, they asked if we'd seen their paint. They, too, had run aground in that spot. Early morning or late afternoon are the best times to cross the Albamarle. We, once again, had smooth waters to move through, and the two hour crossing was uneventful. except for three minnows, two of which chose to commit suicide on the back of the boat. I managed to flip the third back into the water and save his life. Our goal was to get to the north end of the Dismal Swamp Canal by evening. It was hard to pass through Elizabeth City, NC without stopping—it is an adorable, friendly little town and we'd have loved to spend a day, but we had a mission. We followed the Pasquatank River and crossed the beautiful and sedate Turner's Cut, arriving at the South Mills Lock about twenty minutes prior to the 1:30 opening. We were able to loosely tie up to the dolphins (not fish—this kind of dolphin is a group of 3 or so pilings chained together for the purpose of securing boats). So we waited there until the lock tender arrived and opened the lock gates so we could rise 8' to meet the level of the water in the Canal. The Dismal Swamp is a quiet, tranquil stretch of water that reportedly is filled with critters that fly, swim, and slither. We've never seen a living thing there except other boaters. This day was grey and muggy, and so still that the reflection of the trees blended into the trees themselves. Created a very wearying ride, as staying in the channel (usually only 6 feet deep) was challenging. We'd passed an Army Corps of Engineers workboat at the south end of the canal with several large tree trunks on board. Erosion, and heightened erosion caused by boaters who go fast enough to create a wake that roughs up the sides of the canal, results in trees simply falling over. At the north end of the canal we found five or six large logs afloat. More work for the C of E. The lock at the north end of the Canal is an adventure. We'd called ahead to check in with Robert—the lockmaster who serves coffee and danish to his early morning guests. He in turn called Bob and Lynn (owners of LEGRACE, a steel Dutch built trawler) who also were tying up inside the canal for the night. We'd entered the canal at 1:30 and had 22 miles to go without leaving a wake, so our 5:30 arrival was long after the last lock opening at 3:30 in the afternoon. Bob and Lynn had saved a 40 foot space for us to tie up on the wall—our swim platform was snugged under their dinghy—and we met two other couples for dinner at La Familia, the Authentic Mexican Restaurant a stone's throw from the wall. Lots of conversation about the Great Loop, which they were all completing and we are just beginning. Next morning we had a fun time visiting with Robert and U-Turn, his Lock Dog, who wanted very badly to eat the laces on my boat shoes. (I was ashore taking pictures. Guess U-Turn knew I didn't belong there.) Once we'd been lowered that same 8' we were underway and soon entered the hustle and bustle of the Norfolk Harbor. The AIS warning system that beeps when it detects a big boat made constant noise as we passed barges, aircraft carriers, and navy and commercial vessels of all shapes and sizes—-all variations of BIG! We stopped for fuel ($1.81/gallon) and to have the holding tank pumped, and then crossed Hampton Roads and tied up, again stern to, at the Municipal Docks in Hampton. Fred is becoming very comfortable backing the boat. Once again the wind tried to play havoc with our landing but we slid into the slip very nicely, thank you. And that ended our boating for the week. On Friday morning we again rented a car from Enterprise (in the same building as the Dockmaster) and headed north. Arrived in Newburgh around 7:30 pm, and set the condo up for the next day's festivities. We were at OCCC at 9 am and the rain very kindly held off until after the graduates received their diplomas. The family (25 or so) came back to High Point Circle for a fun afternoon of congrats for Kris Tina. We're oh so proud of her for managing work, school and parenting, and staying the course until the diploma is in her hand. She's now registered at Marist College for the other two years of the Bachelor's Degree! Doctor and dentist appointments and family affairs will keep us in Newburgh until the end of the week, so again there will be a bit of a hiatus before we meet again. Until June, be well, enjoy each day, and share lots of love and laughter. Fred and Linda

May 11, 2009

How quickly this Monday has rolled around. And we have rolled along. After our protracted stay in South Carolina, I neglected to note that we have crossed the border into the Carolina of the North! It has been suggested to me that I somehow attach a map to this blog, I will put it on the list of things to learn to do, and suggestions are welcomed! We had a fun day in North Carolina last Tuesday. The Harbour Village Marina was delightful and we (once again) hated to leave, but by 9am were underway and heading North! Very soon we discovered that the Canadian boat (IMPERTINENCE TOO) we first met in McClellanville, then parted with at Wrightsville Beach, was back. That is truly one of the best parts of cruising—meeting the same people again and again. So, joined by a sailboat named THE REVERIE we had a parade of sorts along the Carolina coast. The Intracoastal Waterway pretty much follows the shoreline of North Carolina. And the shore of NC is primarily barrier islands with inlets (or outlets, depending....) to the Atlantic Ocean every so often. Between inlets with their rushing currents, the magenta line (that is how the Waterway is designated on our charts) can get very twisty and turny, and the water often becomes surprisingly shallow—and then the depth sounder beeps! The trick then is to decide which way to turn the boat to return to deeper water. (Boaters, bear with me here. My belief is that many blog readers don't boat!) Here is an example of why it really works to NOT have tight schedules when you are cruising. The standard height above the water for a highway bridge crossing the Intracoastal Waterway is 65 feet. Most sailboats easily clear that, and it is always prudent to check the 'waterboards' posted on the bridge support. Depending on the tides, currents, winds, etc., the distance from the top of the water to the bottom of the bridge can vary greatly. The boards generally show 2' increments, and it is usually pretty easy to read the clearance distance. With our antennae folded back, we need only 19' to clear,so all highway bridges work for us. THE REVERIE was unable to get under the bridge at Morehead City, NC. In our just over a year of cruising, that was the first time we'd seen a boat whose mast wouldn't clear a fixed bridge. Off she went to await a lower tide. We trust she didn't have a dinner date! Who knows when she'd fit under the bridge? We juggled the wind and current in Morehead City and soon were tied up for the night. Wednesday was an easy day, and the last day of boating for us for the week. We zipped up Adams' Creek, crossed the Nuese River and by 1:00 pm Fred had backed us into a slip conveniently located right in front of the Oriental, NC Marina office (and Tiki Bar). We spent the evening washing the salt spray off the boat, and packing. On Thursday morning, we were picked up by Enterprise, took their car—actually not their car—long story... Suffice it to say that we drove to Dover DE. Slept there, and the next day finished the trip to Newburgh. It was a whirlwind visit with lots happening in a very short time! On Saturday morning, Orange County Community College had a breakfast celebration and Hudson River ride on the stern paddle wheeler RIVER ROSE for thirty or so graduates who took most of their classes at the college's Newburgh campus. Daughter Kris Tina, who has been both a student and an employee at OCCC, had a hard time being a guest at the event she had worked hard to make a success (in her role as employee). She was there as a graduate and spoke (very eloquently,I might add) to the gathering of families and friends of graduates. Her topic? The challenges of returning to college as a single mom with a full time job. What a treat to share in her accomplishment. Later in the day, we joined daughter Molly and her family for a Mother's Day/birthday/anniversary dinner that ended with fabulous fruit selections on Angel Food Cake. Yum! Also got to meet the eight chickens who have come to add hilarity to the Whritner Whresidence. No eggs yet, but they will be great, we betcha! (I left my camera on the boat. Newburgh photos will be added when they arrive) Sunday morning Fred and I were up and on the road at the crack of dawn. By 11 am we were at the Southern end of the Jersey Tpk. We stopped for a picnic lunch along the shore of the Chesapeake-Delaware Canal, and by 10 pm were back 'at home' in Oriental, on the boat. Monday, after we returned the rental car, YOUNG AMERICA carried us off to the Neuse River. It was a very exciting ride in strong northeast winds. YA handled the waves on her bow admirably! One huge wall of water, though, washed under the anchor lock in such a way that the chain was freed and spun out in a heartbeat. We heard the crash and recognized that the sound came from the bow, but it was much later, when we were out of the wind and spray and about to anchor for the night that we discovered, to our horror, that we'd dragged the Danforth at the end of 200' of chain for a very long time! The chain was embalmed in sticky mud, and the anchor wound up in sticks, mud and random pieces of 'stuff'. New project. Install a back up locking system on both anchors! Actually, it is a new OLD project. Fred has had tag lines on the anchors for about 9 months, and only recently stopped using them. This incident moves the design and building of a back up holding system way up on the 'to-do' list! Had Knute, our gi-normous Rockna anchor deployed in that wind----well, let's not go there. Needless to say, by the time we'd cleaned up the Danforth and the deck, anchored for real, and eaten dinner, we were done. It was early to bed and the blog will have to wait until Tuesday. And here it is! Hope you all had a great week, too. Remember, comments are appreciated—just click on the comment line at the bottom of the blog. I feel a bit like radio announcers must—the word goes out. Feedback would be great! Just say 'hey'! Fred and Linda

May 4, 2009

Before I go any further, last week I promised to post a photo of Bernie Reller, who has created a line of Trawler jewelry. And I didn't. So here it is. While at the Mirage seminar, Judy and I went to Bernie's jewery shop and his staff gave my bracelet a much needed cleaning. Here's a photo of Bernie taking a photo of my YA bracelet. He says he has the largest stock of nautical jewelry around. You may decide for yourself—and read his fascinating history-- by visiting his website at www.rellergold.com Last week (it was Wednesday when I posted last Monday's Message) Fred and I languished in Charleston. Then we languished some more. On Thursday afternoon we decided it was time to think about getting underway. Then we languished some more. We take this retirement thing very seriously. Actually, we had a shuttle to take us to town to grocery shop and enjoy more of Charleston. There were lots of boats in the marina to check out—like my favorite, the Dinghy. The crew working on the boat next door had not one, but two electric tricycles (sorta like our Go-Pet) so we had to watch them ride about. We also read (I read Twilight just to see what all the fuss is about), did crossword puzzles and sudokus, and well, we languished. On Friday afternoon when the tide was slack, we actually untied the lines and got underway. The temptation to stop 5 miles away at Isle of Palms was strong, but we resisted. We use a variety of methods for deciding where we'll stop for the night. Sometimes, we actually set a mileage goal for the day and pick a spot that is a match. Other days, around 4 pm we'll begin to think it is time and investigate one or more of our navigating books—Skipper Bob, the Waterway Guide, or Managing the Waterway to find a place to spend the night.. On this day, Fred was playing with his Nobeltec software in the drive-the-boat-computer, and he found McClellanville, on the Jeremy Creek. This is NOT, we were quickly told, a village founded by the General who is remembered for the (Union) Army of the Potomac in the Civil War. It's a village with about 200 families in 2.2 square miles, and is located in Charleston County. The South. As luck would have it, the first weekend in May is the annual Blessing of the Fleet and Lowcountry Shrimp Festival. So we pulled up to the Leland Oil Co. dock behind a 50' Hatteras (boat), just as Caroline and Justin arrived by car from Charleston with food and their two dogs, to live on the boat for the weekend. As we've noticed with many boats lately, this boat never left the dock, but was a great 'summer home'. It looked as if Marley, the 11 year old Black Lab, would never leave the dock either. The top dock, that is. These two docks, one fixed and one floating, give a perfect visual demonstration of the tidal range in Jeremy Creek. It a few hours the lower dock had been raised up and was close enough to the upper for Marley to jump down and join the family. We decided to stay for the festivities, and enjoyed the parade of shrimp boats decked out for the occasion. The Blessing turned out to be a much quicker than expected event, as the heavens opened and rain poured down on the boats and spectators. And the bagpiper, and the vendors. But a good time was had by all, the rain ended and the music started—and continued long into the night. We were invited to have shrimp and bar-b-que with Duane the dockmaster and his family, and also to visit with Sally and Bill, who are very slowly restoring a 100 year old house that has been in her family for generations. What a project! At the end of the day we climbed up to our top deck, and switched the cable that operates the dinghy davit from a braided wire affair with sharp barbs of steel every so often to a soft, flexible Amsteel cable. Very soft. Very easy to work with and very strong. It'll make lowering the dinghy a much more pleasant, and much less bloody, event. Returned inside the boat satisfied with a job well done, and lo, the engine room had a couple of buckets (I know this because I carried it out) of water on the floor. Happily, it took Fred about 3 minutes to diagnose the disconnect of the cold water feed to the hot water heater, and another 3 minutes to fix it. Hooray. Sunday morning we were underway by 7am. Plan A was to make it a twelve hour day and get some miles under the keel. We had a nice south wind pushing us along, but the currents opposed, so we were doing our usual 6.5 knots. Did I say earlier that most boats stay at the dock? On Sunday afternoon, it seemed that everyone who owned a boat in SC decided to go out and play. The traffic was incredible—at one point we acknowledged that it felt like New Jersey! Big boats, small boats, water skiiers and kids on floats, fishing boats and speedy personal watercraft devices ('mosquitos', we call them) zipping back and forth! By 6pm we decided that enough was enough and tied up at the Barefoot Landing in Myrtle Beach. A week ago this part of the ICW was closed because of fires. Don't know if this is the true story, but the locals told us that a fellow burned some 'stuff' in his yard. The fire dept. inspected and declared the fire safely put out, and then, two days later, as fire will do, it reared up and ran quickly out of control. The smoke, wind, and fog made travel on the Intracoastal Waterway impossible for days, but by the time we arrived only a faint smoke smell lingered. I didn't bring my camera when we walked through the Barefoot Landing Shopping Outlet for Ice Cream ($4.95 + tax for a double dip! Yikes.), or you'd see photos of the baby white tigers wrestling in their cages. “The animals don't live here”, the loudspeakers blared, “they are only brought in by day for the public to view. Step right up!” We didn't go inside for the full show. Today, Monday, we were off and running by 8am. Our northerly route took us through the Rock Pile—a 3+ mile stretch where the Waterway was blasted out of fossiliferous limestone (says the book). The chaannel is narrow enough that you don't want to meet up with any really big boats—to hit the side would be a very big deal. We were excited as we'd timed our arrival at the Pontoon Bridge perfectly. An accident, of course—we were going as fast as we could and it was good luck that the computer told us we'd arrive at the bridge at 9:57 am. Just across the NC border, this last pontoon bridge on this part of the Waterway opens every hour on the hour. But wait, as we came around the last curve at 9:55, we met southbound traffic. Oops. Bridge tender suggested that we drop the anchor, as the tide was too low for the pontoons to float, and he'd had to open early. So anchor we did, along with about 7 other boats, and by 11:30 there was enough water for all systems to be a go! The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. The Cape Fear River gave us a dandy current boost and we roared along at a record 10.2 knots for awhile! Once again we had to hover for 20 minutes, this time at the Wrightsville Bridge. The bottom of the bridge was 17.5 feet above the water, and we need 19 feet to get through. Two hours north of Wrightsville we turned into the Harbour Village Marina, and easily tied up at the empty fuel dock. Scott, the night guy at the marina explained to us that this place is very unusual. The owner had a lot of land and decided to build a Marina in the middle of nowhere. He did and sold most of the slips immediately. According to Scott, most of the boats at most of the slips have sat empty for over a year—folks here don't even weekend on their tied up boats. That suits Scott just fine—it's a nice, quiet place to live--on his boat. The owner then began building houses around the perimeter of the Marina, and each of the 12 built so far has sold for a very handsome price. So the owner is happy. The evening was cool and lovely, we were happy, too, and now it is time for bed. Good night all—we'll talk again! Fred and Linda